


We're going to dance

by Desperate_Dr_Clone



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - River is the Master, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/F, Fem!Master - Freeform, I wrote this at 1 am last night, Not Canon Compliant, This is crack, edited it at 9 pm tonight, how do i even tag this aaa help, rip to people who like canon but i'm different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24527740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desperate_Dr_Clone/pseuds/Desperate_Dr_Clone
Summary: The Doctor did not remember of her dearest enemy ever calling her “sweetie”. It must have been, she assumed, a quirk of this body.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	We're going to dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElsaIsThereLifeOnMars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElsaIsThereLifeOnMars/gifts).



> um hi I wrote this in response to [ElsaIsThereLifeOnMars' post.](https://elsaistherelifeonmars.tumblr.com/post/617835429821038592/what-do-you-want-kneel-kneel-or-they-all) It's not very good and I don't really like it and they probably wanted to write it themselves and they definitely would have made a better job of it than I did but I wrote it anyway. Enjoy 800 words of mediocre content!

The Doctor’s eyes were fixed on the Master’s. She towered over her this time around; by quite a bit, and she suspected that even without her heels, the Master would be taller than her by at least an inch.

“Hello, sweetie,” said the Master, her voice was low and sultry; and there was an obscene air about her.  _ Sweetie _ ; that was new. The Doctor did not remember of her dearest enemy ever calling her “sweetie”. It must have been, she assumed, a quirk of this body. 

The Doctor didn’t respond, and the Master stepped closer. “What’s wrong, my love?” And that just sent a shiver down the Doctor’s spine. “Has the cat got your tongue?” And, oh, sweet irony, she looked the very image of a lioness toying with her meal for the thrill of seeing the fear in her prey’s eyes. 

The Doctor would not give her that satisfaction. She straightened her back. “‘Sweetie’? ‘My love’? What’s wrong with  _ you _ ? Did we get married or something?”

A cannibal’s grin spread across the Master’s features and a dark chuckle poured from her lips. “Or something, yes.” 

The Doctor rolled her eyes. “Great,” she said, in a tone that rather indicated the opposite. “What do you want?”

The Master tutted. “Always in such a hurry. Why don’t we ever stop and make small talk before getting into my devious plans?” The Doctor fought the urge to slap the shit-eating grin off the Master’s face right there and then.

“Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to make small talk with people like you?”

“Ah, my dear Doctor. . . There are no  _ people like me _ , you’re the only one who even comes close, sweetie.”

The Doctor ignored that, thank you very much. “I really don’t care,” she huffed. “What do you want?” The facade of composure she had been struggling to maintain almost came undone.

The Master gave no response save for this horrifying smirk of hers. “I don’t think I will just yet. . .” She began typing on a device fastened to her wrist. The Doctor realised what it was. Too late. “But don’t worry, you won’t have to wait too long. We’re going on a trip, sweetie!” The Master grabbed the Doctor by the arm. “Oh, you should see your face right now!” She was exhilarated, tight curls bouncing about as laughter shone in her mad eyes. The Doctor was hit by a jolt of fear.

They were still on Earth. Nineteenth century, or so the Doctor guessed. “What are we doing here?” She asked, dreading the worst.

“We’re going to a ball.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“We, meaning the Doctor and the Master,” she started, her tone patronising as could be, “two Time Lords from Gallifrey, are going to a ball, that is to say a gathering where people--”

“Shut up! I understood your sentence and you know that!  _ Why _ are we going to a ball? What are you plotting?”

“We’re going to dance, and we’re going to have fun, and then we’re going to leave and watch five hundred people die,” she answered, fast, cheerfully, as if she were organising a nice day out at the beach.

“ _ What _ ?”

The Master sighed. “Well I didn’t think you’d like it. . . Guess I was right.”

“Of course I don’t like it! Why would you do that? What is wrong with you?”

“For the sake of the good old days, I suppose.”

“No!”

“Buzzkill,” the Master muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Psychopath!”

“Rude!” She sounded nothing short of indignant.

The Doctor’s hearts were racing. “Don’t do it! I. . . I’ll do anything! Just  _ please _ don’t kill anyone!”

The Master smirked once again and the Doctor knew she would regret this. “Kneel.” The Doctor raised her eyebrows. Had the Master been planning this all along? “Kneel, or they all die.”

The Doctor rolled her eyes, but she obeyed. Every cell in her body, every last instinct, her very essence recoiled at the gesture; but she knelt regardless. The Master slid a hand under her chin, and the Doctor shivered with repulsion. Her head was tilted up by the Master’s fingers and she was forced to look into eyes as old as hers. “Good girl,” the Master cooed, taunting her. “Say my name,” she whispered, just loud enough for the Doctor to hear.

And the Doctor found she was no longer anxious or distraught or scared or anything of the sort. What she was, however, was exasperated. “Master,” she spat out.

The grin on the Master’s face spread. “Now my other name, sweetie.”

The Doctor could not repress her annoyment this time. “River!” She shouted.

The Master chuckled and knelt in front of her, still maintaining a firm grip on the Doctor’s chin, she squeezed her cheek slightly, and the Doctor burned at the humiliation. 

“Now, dear, we’re going to dance.”

**Author's Note:**

> If by any chance you enjoyed this, please leave kudos and/or comment, even if you're reading this ten years after I uploaded it.
> 
> Xx


End file.
